Love is Merely Madness
[Book 1]
Written By Starswim
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"Love is merely a madness and, I tell you, deserves as well a dark house and a whip as madmen do, and the reason why they are not so punished and cured is that the lunacy is so ordinary that the whippers are in love, too."
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Thank you all for choosing to read this series. I hope you'll enjoy it. Don't be afraid to leave a comment down below or add this story to your library, your opinion matters.
This book starts off as a Jonathan Crane love/horror story that takes place slightly before the Batman Begins movie timeline.
- Warning -
While this story contains hearts and flowers, it also comes with mature content that is inappropriate for younger viewers. I'll do my best to warn you before the chapter starts, but just in case, viewer discretion is advised.
Beware of some major trigger warnings: violence, mentions of sexual assault, psychological torture, inmate and child abuse, drug usage, and swearing.
- Disclaimer -
I don't own anything that belongs to DC or the Christopher Nolan Batman trilogy with the exception of twists in the plot and my original characters. Anyone who wishes to make a fanfic based on this alternate universe and/or include my OCs' in their story, please, notify me for permission and give me credit. Thank you.
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Chapter 1: New Girl
Finally, after a series of delays and reroutes, Kathryn Knightly made it from Pensacola, Florida to Gotham City, New Jersey.
The first thing she noticed when departing the airport was the weather. A complete turnaround from what she's used to in the orange state. Not that Kathryn expected it, she knew what she was up against. She knew that the scent of sea salt would leave her nose, replaced with the smell of cigarettes and gasoline. The man sitting behind her was to blame for the stink.
The skies were color drained without a trace of sunshine or white clouds. Water surrounded the city and under its bridge, but no one could jump in because of the cool temperature.
There were no palm trees or gardens, nor sandcastles to build. If Kathryn was going to have a tan, she must buy a tanning salon membership. She had an olive complexion that would soon fade. She hadn't been here that long, and already, she felt the need to have some heat on her face.
The first she did after setting foot in this city was to grab a bite to eat. The driver recommended Gotham's Café - what an original name. He claimed the place had the best burgers, though she preferred chicken.
Waiting at her table outside, she was reading the Arkham handbook, absorbing the asylum's rules and regulations in her mind. She was shocked to receive the job offer from Arkham's founder thanks to her professor from Florida Tech.
She was the youngest in the school. Most of her classmates contained experience before application. Kathryn had done the same throughout the process by volunteering at day camps for Autism kids then interning at a psychiatric clinic without pay. After all that, Professor Rutherford chose her. Nervousness was putting it lightly. Kathryn was terrified about the phone interview with Doctor Arkham. Thanks to her parents' encouragement and her little sister's relaxing massage, it went better than expected. She was hired on the spot.
Parents should be thrilled that their child had found a high-paying job, but most of them wouldn't like the idea of their baby moving a thousand miles away to work at an asylum for the criminally insane. Melissa Knightly was horrified when she had done her research, forbidding the idea of Kathryn leaving the nest. Unfortunately for her, Kathryn didn't require her mother's permission. This proved to be a big step towards independence, especially to a five-foot girl like Kathryn Knightly. The butterflies still hadn't gone away after leaving the house, but Kathryn must do this. Rare opportunities like this could only happen once in a lifetime.
"Good afternoon, ma'am," a blonde waitress arrived. She looked like the typical it-girl from high school, the top on a cheerleader's pyramid, the Barbie doll.
"My name's Elise, and I'll be taking care of you." Her pen was hovering over the paper, ready to write. "What can I get you?" she asked.
"Um..." Kathryn didn't get a chance to look at the menu because her main focus was on the Arkham handbook, "I'm not sure."
The waitress looked up at her with a straight face. "Do you have a preference?"
Kathryn raised her head in confusion. "I'm sorry?"
Elise repeated herself.
"Um..." Kathryn shrugged, "I do. I like chicken and steak-"
"Then I recommend World Class Chicken. It's a marinated, grilled chicken breast topped with brown sugar bacon and the veggies you normally put in a sandwich. Oh, and the bun is dressed in honey-lime. Don't get confused with honey-lemon, that's gross."
Kathryn's eyes scanned through the menu until she spotted the chicken sandwich. If she could judge a book by its cover, Kathryn would say that the sandwich looked delicious.
"Okay..." she nodded, offering Elise the menu. "I'll take your suggestion, but hold the lettuce and tomatoes. Also, can I have the potato soup on the side?'
"Absolutely," Elise wrote down Kathy's order in the notebook. "Okay. Anything else? Anything to drink?"
"Coke."
"Alright" Elise ceased writing as she tucked the pen behind her ear and took the menu from Kathryn. "Thank you very much. I'll be back with your order."
Kathryn quietly thanked the waitress, returning her attention to the handbook.
Ten minutes later, Elise returned with Kathryn's order at hand, just as she promised. The sandwich, she recommended, tasted pretty good, despite the lack of condiments. If Kathryn was being honest, the potato soup was the star of her meal.
After satisfying her stomach, Kathryn ushered Elise to bring her check. She opened her green, flora bag for her wallet to pay. She looked at the receipt to see how much the meal cost, but something grabbed her undivided attention. There were seven random numbers at the top of the revenue.
"Um, excuse me?" Kathryn asked, showing off the skepticism with her pinched brows. "I got a question."
"What's up?" Elise perked.
"What's this?" Kathryn handed the receipt to Elise, pointing at the seven bold numbers at the top.
The waitress's lips stretched into a smile, "Oh, that's my phone number."
Kathryn raised her brows, nerves creeping down her spine. "Okay..." she drawled with unease. "Could you explain to me why you're giving me your number?" This transaction was becoming uncomfortable. Was this waitress hitting on Kathryn? This behavior shouldn't be tolerated in the restaurant business, right? Should Kathryn file a complaint to the manager?
Elise started laughing, realizing the awkwardness in this situation, "Okay, I know that look. Before you scream 'Stranger Danger!' let me explain by saying, no, I'm not hitting on you. I don't normally give my number to anybody unless the person is a hot single or someone is new in town."
"W-What makes ya think I'm new in town?"
The blonde scoffed and rolled her eyes, "Please, I've been a waitress here for a long time, and I have so many regulars here."
"So?"
"So you're new to this café. Plus, you have the city pamphlet," Elise pointed her pen at the Gotham map on top of the table, "and your suitcase." Kathryn slowly folded the pamphlet underneath the table, sliding it on top of her roller suitcase.
"And your accent is another giveaway - it's so cute," Elise cooed. "You from Tennessee? Alabama?"
"Florida," Kathryn responded, clearing her throat as if she was attempting to mask the country evidence in her voice. "I'm from Pensacola." She'd always tried to keep it subtle, but sometimes it's involuntary. This happened to her all the time at home. Annoying tourists would approach and comment on her accent, asking her to say random things just so they could hear it.
"No kidding!" Elise nearly dropped her pen. Who in their right mind would choose this gloom of a city over palm trees and oranges?
"No, ma'am... Take no offense, but isn't that risky giving your number to someone, you don't know? A complete stranger?"
"You're not strange, despite the fact you're working at a nuthouse."
Kathryn widened her eyes in shock. "How did you-?"
Elise rolled her eyes, pointing at the table with her pen, "You gotta handbook."
Kathryn glared at the paperback and smiled sheepishly, "Right."
"Look, you're new in Gotham, someone has to show you the ropes."
"The ropes?"
Elise nodded. "Of course. There are a lot of dos and don'ts in this place. In case you don't know, this city has lots of criminals running the streets."
"If this place is dangerous, why are you still here?"
"Why are you here?" Elise retorted. Kathryn scoffed, not answering the question to this stranger.
The waitress shrugged. "I would leave, but I just don't have the dough or the scores to go anywhere." She paused for a moment before she smiled. "Hey, that rhymes. Dough - go. Ha!" Elise shook her head, realizing that she's way off subject. "Look, I don't have anything else to do with my life, except this. Maybe someday that'll change, but in the meantime, just give me a call, and I'll show you the cheapest coffee shops, cheaper than here."
Kathryn couldn't help but consider the proposition. Despite Elise's risque acts, she seemed harmless.
"Thanks," the petite nodded. "I might take you up on that offer."
"Good. If you ever need any help, just give me a call anytime... except when I'm working."
"When do you stop working?"
"My shift begins at 12 till 6:00 PM, every day except Sundays."
Kathryn offered the thumbs up. "Gotcha."
"Great. So, in case you forgot, my name is Elise."
"Kathryn," The psychologist held her hand out for the waitress, who gladly accepted it with a shake.
"Nice to meet you, Kat. I can call you 'Kat', right?"
"Sure."
"Good," Elise smiled. "Welcome to Gotham, Kat, and I hope you come back soon."
Kathryn's grin didn't falter as she stuck the money inside the billfold. She refused to leave the receipt behind, so she crammed it in her bag. As she was leaving the cafe, Kathryn turned her head to the side and saw that Elise was nowhere to be found. She assumed that the waitress was checking on her other customers inside the cafe. Thinking about what happened moments ago, Kathryn realized that she had just made a new friend in Gotham, in under one hour. What a record.
~000~000~000~
"Doctor Kathryn Knightly, I presume?"
Kathryn smiled as she shook the founder's hand in greeting.
A week after arriving, unpacking her belongings into her new apartment, and getting oriented with the city - the big day finally arrived — her first day working in Arkham Asylum. The butterflies still hadn't disappeared. She tried not to show it through her black-framed glasses. She didn't know what to wear for the first day but knew that she must abide by the respectful dress code. Therefore, she dressed in a white blouse, black slacks, and open-toed, three-inch heels.
"Good to finally meet you in person, Dr. Arkham. It's an honor."
Doctor Jeremiah Arkham returned the grip with a smile. "Professional, appropriate, and a good shake. You are going to do well here, I can tell," he sat down on his chair, motioning Kathryn to sit down as well. Kathryn felt her face flush as she lowered herself on the leather but tattered chair.
"Thank you, Dr. Arkham."
"Oh, don't thank me, yet, Dr. Knightly. Thank your professor for he had persuaded me to give you a chance here."
Kathryn nodded.
"Now, from what we spoke on the phone, I must warn you that this job is not going to be easy. This is a high-security facility, and strict protocols must be followed. The board and I expect 110% from each of the staff, not only for their safety but their sanity."
"I agree, Sir."
"Now we can't give you patients on the spot, especially our most dangerous. That would be unethical. You must go through weeks worth of training and supervised sessions."
"Yes sir, I understand," Kathryn spoke quietly. She would be lying if Kathryn said that she wasn't slightly disappointed.
"But I am a busy man. Therefore I won't be the one to train you. I would have my head man do it, but he's in the middle of a psychiatric evaluation, right now," Doctor Arkham pushed a button to the intercom and spoke. "Dr. Whistler, please report to my office, please? Dr. Whistler, please report to my office."
Doctor Arkham released the button, returning his attention to the doctor in front of him; his hands folded on top of the desk. "Gretchen Whistler is a long-term member of this staff, most dedicated. A strong-minded woman with a heavy heart. Whatever she tells you to do, you better do it."
Kathryn nodded, "Yes, Sir."
It didn't take long for the older woman to come inside. The wrinkles deepened her stern face. Her bug-eyed glasses reminded Kathryn of her seventh-grade Biology teacher who loved to touch dead things with her bare hands. It wasn't a terrific science year, until eighth-grade chemistry. Kathryn was debating whether she could enjoy working with Doctor Whistler or not. The woman looked like she didn't want to be here.
"Oh, good. You're here. Gretchen, meet Kathryn Knightly," Doctor Arkham gestured to the new girl, who waved at the woman politely. "Dr. Knightly, meet Dr. Gretchen Whistler."
Kathryn raised herself from the seat to shake the woman's hand. "Pleasure to meet you."
Doctor Whistler nodded. "Likewise."
Once the woman spoke, Kathryn was in the debate again. The woman's voice was neutral, no telling what her first impression of Kathryn could be, but it was loud and poise identical to a commander. She was the type to keep Kathryn on her toes, that's for sure.
~000~000~000~
Four hours since Kathryn started training, the whole time Gretchen Whistler helped her get oriented, gave her a tour, and quizzed her about the protocols.
Learning everything from Whistler, Kathryn could've sworn she spotted a smile across the woman's wrinkled face. It was small, but it was there. Whistler truly treated this place as if the asylum was her home. It made Kathryn question the doctor's current status. Doctor Arkham mentioned a man working as the chief administrator in this asylum, why hadn't he put Gretchen in charge instead? Kathryn hadn't met the headman, yet. She shouldn't jump to conclusions again.
Whistler mentioned that Kathryn must wait a couple of weeks before she starts a new patient, plenty of time to familiarize the facility. The process may be tedious, but at least she'll get paid.
"Please, tell me I'm going too fast, or you're too slow to comprehend?" Was it an insult? Kathryn wondered.
"No," Kathryn responded. "I understand everything, doctor. Please continue."
Whistler's wrinkled face deepened as if the new girl's words hadn't earned her approval. "Remember, Knightly. Do not be afraid to ask questions. This a high-rank place, crawling with lunatics. The last thing we want is for you to get eaten on your first day."
"Eaten?"
"I have a patient at 1:00 pm. He is unlike the others you'll see; he may even give you nightmares."
Kathryn blinked, feeling her stomach tie in knots.
"But if you wish to sit out-"
"No. No. No. I want to - I'll be happy to watch your session."
Whistler's face hadn't changed, hard to tell whether she approved or believed Kathryn to be foolish. It was the petite's first day, and already she was about to face the so-called monster.
"Very well," Whistler checked her watch. "We have half an hour. Why don't you go to the office and have lunch?"
Kathryn's eyes widened, recalling one thing she had forgotten to bring.
"Sugar - I mean, I'm sorry, but I... I didn't bring my lunch today."
Whistler sighed. "No worries. We have a cafeteria or a vending machine in the break room if you prefer to pay for your lunch-"
"I do," Kathryn replied, refusing to eat cafeteria food that resembled school food.
"Then go ahead and snack in the break room. Meet me at my office at exactly 12:25."
Kathryn nodded, "Yes, ma'am." She headed towards the break room and pulled out a couple of bucks from her back pocket for the vending machines. She bought a small bag of Lays chips, M&M candy, and a can of coke. None were healthy choices, but it was some of her favorite snacks to eat.
Once she retrieved her lunch, Kathryn headed back to Whistler's office to eat, assurance that she won't be tardy. She made her way down the hall and turned left while opening the can of coke.
Unfortunately, without giving much sense to her surroundings, her body collided with a guy around the corner. She gasped at the cold liquid pouring into her chest, staining her white blouse. Her grip slipped, allowing the chips and candy to fall, joining someone's folders on the floor.
Kathryn's eyes raised to see who she ran into. A dark-hair, lean man dressed for success just like every other doctor. What stood him out were the high cheekbones and the sharp angle of his jaw. His face looked as if Michelangelo, himself, had sculpted him. If the artist didn't create this man, he might as well be. He was handsome, even though he was wearing specs that reflected his crystal blue eyes. The most beautiful eyes she had ever seen.
He cleared his throat, gaining her attention back to reality. Kathryn took in the mess on the floor. The tipped can in her hand poured the remaining liquid on the man's papers.
"Sugar!" Kathy kneeled to pick up her snacks, while the man did the same for his soaked folder, waving it to dry.
"I'm so sorry about that! I can't believe that happened."
"Maybe you should watch where you are going, ." Kathryn perked at his grave, rich voice. A voice that any woman could fall for, even though the words were a slap to the face. He also knew her name. How? Did everyone know she started today? Was she that obvious?
"Me?" Kathryn asked. "You're the one with the papers. Maybe you should watch where you're going?"
The man raised a brow at her - a silent warning to keep quiet. The same face her mother used to give Kathryn when she had done something wrong. He was intimidating, and he didn't have to say anything to prove it.
The man looked down at his suit, pulling out a handkerchief from his front pocket to wipe the drops off his jacket. Kathy clenched her teeth; the guilt twisted her stomach and intensified her pounding heart as she heard him claim the suit was brand new.
"Again, I'm really sorry about this," she apologized.
"If it makes you feel any better, I'm not the only one with a stain on me," the man uttered, his eyes lowered at Kathryn's chest. Most people would've thought he was staring at her cleavage if the spill hadn't occurred.
"This all could've been avoided if you had obeyed the rules," he scolded.
"The rules?" she questioned.
"All foods and beverages must stay within the cafeteria, the break room, or your office - nowhere outside. I don't understand why Dr. Whistler had failed to mention this - it's useful information." The man heaved out a breath. "Then again, she is getting old and becoming dumber than pond scum. Why else did Dr. Arkham retire her former position?"
Kathryn blinked, feeling the need to defend the older doctor, but one gaze at his face silenced her. He was not the man to be messing with. She knew that for sure. She decided to change the subject by looking down at the mess on the floor.
"I should go find some napkins and-"
"There's no need," the man cut her off. "We have a janitor here. I'll find him and tell him what happened before I do anything else."
"Are you in a hurry? I'll get him myself."
"I do have a patient coming up-"
"Then I'll get the janitor. I hope your papers aren't too important."
The man looked at his soaked folder and shrugged. "They are," he declared calmly. "You're lucky that I have backups."
"I'm really-"
"Just watch where you're going next time, Doctor Knightly, and do keep your snacks away from the halls from now on," he said bluntly, walking past her. No introductions. No goodbyes. No apologies. Insulting the elderly woman was the icing on the cake. What happened wasn't all of Kathryn's fault or Whistler's. The man had a folder with papers. Surely, he was reading its contents before running into her. He should've watched where he was going or at least apologized.
"What a jerk," she whispered, resuming the task at hand. No doubt, her lunch break would be cut short.